Safe in My Arms
by Rosie Cotton of the Shire
Summary: James muses about fatherhood during and directly after Lily is giving birth. Then he'll make some promises to his little boy. You decide. Does he keep the promise?


Lily screamed in pain as she lay on the bed, the midwife urging her on. I stood by in anguish, listening to her cries.

"Can't you do something?" I yelled. "Can you not see that she is in pain?"

"Yes, I can see that, Mr. Potter, but it is perfectly normal for a woman to feel pain during childbirth," the midwife assured me.

"But she's in pain!" I yelled at her. "What sort of midwife are you?"

"Mr. Potter, I think that, given the circumstances, you should better wait outside," the midwife said, pushing me into the hall.

"James! James!" Lily screamed.

"But she's calling for me!" I protested.

"Calling for their husbands is another common thing for women in labor to do," the midwife calmly spoke, attempting to once again push me into the hall.

Against my fight, the midwife—obviously experienced in the control of angry, raving husbands—managed to force me into the hall.

I sat in the lounge chair that was positioned there. At least it was my own house. Remus said that he had heard in Muggle Studies that Muggles weren't even born into their homes. How bizarre!

I tried to find something happy to think about, to ignore Lily's ever-present screams of discomfort.

Remus gave me that thought. Oh to think! I was the first Marauder to gain the title boyfriend. I was the first to gain the title husband. And in a matter of moments, I would be the first to gain the title father.

Oh the happiness of it! I was jarred out of my thoughts by a particularly ear-piercing scream.

Through the thin door, I could hear the midwife, "Yes, Mrs. Potter. You're doing well."

Really, how appalling! When Lily had first gone into labor, Sirius had been the midwife—he said that I wasn't in a fit state apparently—and though I wasn't keen on the idea of him doing something so, well personal, he had been doing a better job than this "professional midwife" was.

My baby—how happy that sounds. This is what I've been waiting for all my life—I know it. Of course, as Sirius had reminded me when I had told him that, I had said the exact same thing the night before my wedding.

Still, this was still my baby. He, or she I suppose, will be the best baby ever. And I will be the best father ever.

After much musing on my part, and much screaming on Lily's part, the midwife returned. "You may go in."

"Oh, so you've managed to _not _kill my wife, or my child, have you?" I asked, probably annoying the heck out of her, but so be it.

I dashed in. Lily lay on the bed, her red locks draped about her shoulders, giving the illusion that her hair was on fire. In her arms was a bundle of blankets was a patch of dark hair.

"Oh James! Look at him. He's so beautiful," Lily told me.

"He? What's his name, or have you actually decided to consult me on the matter?" I joked, tears of happiness in my eyes.

"I was thinking Harry," Lily said with a smile. I smiled back and her smile only broadened. "Harry James," she finished.

"Oh, Lily, that's so nice of you to remember me. Our first girl we'll name Lily," I told her happily.

"We'll make her middle name Lily, mind you," Lily said with as much laughter as she could muster in her present state.

"Can I see him?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course. He _is _half yours," Lily said. "Come hold him."

"Oh, he's less than half mine. What'd I give? A few chromosome, some sperm," I explained with a shrug, "No sweat. What'd you give? Nine months with an enlarged stomach, hours of pain, not being able to sleep in any position other than on your back, and virtually every tissue in him was once yours. Lots of sweat." I walked forward to hold my little baby boy.

"You make it seem as if I should regret it," Lily responded, a small laugh emerging from her rose lips.

"Not at all," I assured her. I picked up my teensy little son—my little Harry. He glanced up at me for a second and I saw his eyes, then he closed them again, as newborns often do.

"His eyes are blue?" I asked, an appalled look on my face. "Where'd that gene come from?"

"James, James. Sweet James. Most every baby has blue eyes when they're born. Even you with your gorgeous brown ones. Just ask your Mum. I bet you had blue eyes when you were born," Lily promised me.

I shrugged. "In that case. Oh, Harry, you're going to grow up in a dangerous era. But you're going to make a whole new generation of Marauders, and you're going to grow up to be strong, and someday, you may get to do what your mother and I have done—stand against this evil. And though you'll grow up in a dangerous era, as I said before, you'll always be safe in my arms. No matter what happens. You'll be safe in my arms."


End file.
